


Virtuoso

by runjungkook



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), F/F, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, First Ever Work, Gay Keith (Voltron), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Piano, Piano AU, idk what im doing, keith plays piano like its his life, lance just wants to know how someone can be so good at piano, shiro is keiths biggest fan, this isnt betad, wowow turns out the whole vld squad has mutual friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 00:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runjungkook/pseuds/runjungkook
Summary: Lance thought that he would never, ever, ever once in his life have even the slightest appreciation for classical music. Rap music, sure, that was his thing, and salsa he could get along with- it reminded him of when his mamá would turn off all the radios but one and his big family would all clean the house with Vivir Mi Vida playing in the background surely far too loud.In fact, Lance had absolutely no interest in classical music at all. Sure, as someone who was friends with a couple musically inclined people, he had heard a couple piano covers in his life, but never would he stoop so low as to listen to Mozart, or Bach. No, that was not Lance’s scene.Keith was a pianist, an expert at that. Growing up, playing piano was all he knew, and it was all he was passionate about. Except maybe Shiro. And Keith knew he was a talented pianist- he performed nonstop, whether it was for concerts or formal events. He didn’t have a goal for his music- he just knew he wanted to play it.tl;dr: The story of how Keith fell in love with two things: Lance, and making people feel things. With piano, of course.





	Virtuoso

**Author's Note:**

> so lo l this is my first ever fic, like ever.. and idk if im gonna go anywhere with it i guess its jus t when im inspired and yeah its really early in the morning im just doing this bc i felt inspired by listening to piano covers for like 72hrs straight  
> all kinds of criticism is accepted. also, this is unbeta'd, so any grammar mistakes i guess just call me out on!!!

Lance thought that he would never, ever, ever once in his life have even the slightest appreciation for classical music. Rap music, sure, that was his thing, and salsa he could get along with- it reminded him of when his mamá would turn off all the radios but one and his big family would all clean the house with Vivir Mi Vida playing in the background surely far too loud.

In fact, Lance had absolutely no interest in classical music at all. Sure, as someone who was friends with a couple musically inclined people, he had heard a couple piano covers in his life, but never would he stoop so low as to listen to Mozart, or Bach. No, that was not Lance’s scene.

But here he was, a hundred feet away from a darkened stage, with a single spotlight focused on a beautifully dressed silver-haired woman playing a lulling tune on the piano. Lance had no choice but to be there- it had been a rule in his friend group never to miss another’s presentation, and by default, that meant Allura’s performances. The slender woman had chosen to major in music studies after falling in love with a quiet, indie guitar sound, and to Lance’s dismay, had taken quite a liking to classical piano and violin music recently. 

It wasn’t that Lance didn’t like the way that Allura played the music. No, she was amazing at piano- with the help of her lovely fashion advisor, Coran, Allura had chosen a long, matte turquoise dress which radiantly shimmered under the spotlight, and her silver hair had been tied up in a topknot with glimmering strands wisping across her neck, and Lance was sure her outfit made her piano playing sound better. Besides, if he wasn’t there to admire the handiwork of her dress then he was certainly here to provide support to Allura during her second-to-last competition. This was it for her; nearly the end of her university-era piano career as she prepared to switch to violin. His small friend group had come, the three of them towards the middle about ten rows back, with Lance on the very end (of course!) He knew better than to sit in the middle of the two of his friends- Pidge would just pester him about quantum physics or some other concept he didn’t need to think about this second and if he ever tried to turn to Hunk, he would just give him the “sorry, Lance” face which he despised so much. Sometimes Lance hated how respectful Hunk was- he actually watched the performances, and clapped for everyone, not just Allura. 

As Allura finished her performance, Lance nudged Hunk’s elbow, his friend having leant on the polished wood armrest the two of them share. Hunk turned to him, his big brown eyes illuminated by the singular light.

“She was amazing, wasn’t she,” he whispered, his voice drowned out by the polite clapping of the crowd. Lance nodded his head in return, having no reply but similar admiration. Although Lance didn’t care for classical music, that didn’t mean he couldn’t recognize talent when it was right in front of him. He joined in the clapping just as the crowd stopped and he sighed to himself, shrinking lower in his seat. Allura was performer 59, meaning that there was just one more pianist before Lance could escape to 7/11 with his friends and grab a large Slushee before movie night. 

Movie night was definitely Lance’s favorite part of Allura’s performance days. After Allura changed into more simple attire, the four of his friends total would meet up with two others, and the gang, Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, Matt, and Romelle, would all crash at Allura’s condo and binge whatever old movie was on cable. It was a tradition, having started when Allura was just a senior in high school and Lance was a freshman, the group meeting up after all of Adam’s fencing matches and Allura’s guitar performances.

Sadly, it wasn’t movie night yet, and Lance had to persevere through one more person’s performance. Lance prepared himself for another rendition of “Pachelbel’s Canon in D” or Beethoven’s “Fur Elise.” Sometimes, he thought if someone put a piano in front of him, he could perform those pieces himself, considering how many times he’d heard them.

The stage darkened, and Lance closed his eyes, waiting for the start to some other song he’d heard a hundred times. First, it was the slow tap of dress shoes, and the slight bow as the pianist showed themself to the crowd. Next, the pianist would pull out the bench from underneath, flip open the cover, and play Clair de Lune or whatever other stereotypical song Lance was waiting for.

He hummed Canon in D under his breath just as he was taken aback by the abrupt start and the flurry of notes that ensured. He peeked one eye open, and then quickly another as he saw and heard what was happening. The man on the stage had fingers flying across the keys, producing a poetic yet chaotic mess. The beauty of the notes echoed throughout the auditorium with a quiet hum and Lance swore he could hear every key being pressed and the ceramic dragging itself up as it rubbed against another.

Just as the chaos ended, beauty ensued. A warm, light timbre with a slow tempo- a quiet piece, yet beautiful. It flowed beautifully from the strong notes the man had been playing. Lance zeroed in on the pianist, taken aback once more.

A man, of medium build, dressed in a deep red turtleneck under a buttoned matte black tuxedo shirt and cropped black slacks. His hair- black, shoulder length (was that a mullet?), and slicked back. His shoes- black loafers, shiny, new, buffed. His face- his face was what got Lance. The man’s face wasn’t Allura’s soft smile, but rather a small o, a face of focus and a face of trust with the piano. 

The pianist progressed into a stronger part of the song once more, and Lance could feel himself drawn to both the music and the man. He had heard this piece before, he knew it, but Lance had never heard it played this way. Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu was a piece that Allura had complained about- her instructor told her she didn’t have the proper attitude to play this piece, something which Lance never understood.

Until now. Until this very minute when Lance finally realized why people liked to listen to classical music.

The man on stage made this piece seem like it was his. This was his stage, his song, his competition, and Lance knew it. He had never been so repelled and attracted to something at the same time- his dislike for classical music spoke to him in the back of his mind but his attraction to this man and the way he played this song was like none he had felt before. He encaptured Lance and the audience so quickly and so easily, with the strength and aura of someone who had been performing this piece for years.

The black haired man finished his piece, stood up, bowed, and left, without a hint of a smile or a frown or any expression but a straight face. He walked off the stage with a sluggish stride, and Lance knew he needed to meet this man. How could he just play something which encaptured Lance so much and then just walk off the stage so coolly? How could he just grab the attention of someone who hadn’t bat an eyelash at classical music once in eighteen years and then just walk away like a dog abandoning its pups? It was evident that Lance was not the only one who felt the same way- Hunk and Pidge were clapping, hard, and the audience even let out a few whistles, uncharacteristic to the professional environment of this concert.

Lance’s attention to the now empty stage was drawn away by Hunk nudging his arm, the judges having prepared their final scores for the announcer. The same bespectacled man that had been quietly announcing the winner of this competition for the past four years was back once more, clutching a small stack of white papers in his hand. 

This was it. This was one of those moments Lance knew would change Allura’s life, even if it had nothing to do with her career. She had already graduated, but she had returned for a study on music theory, and he knew she had to win this. For her sake.

The man announced the third place spot, which went to one Victoria Santos, a girl with waist-length brown hair and a dark mauve dress reaching just past her knees. She accepted the small gold trophy and took her seat back in the front row of the auditorium, a polite round of applause stopping just as fast as it had started.

The announcer cleared his throat and ran a shaky hand through his hair almost comically. Lance nudged Hunk once, twice, three times before Hunk finally turned to him.  
“I hope Allura wins,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving the stage. I hope that guy gets second place, though, he thought to himself. Not because he thought that guy’s performance deserved second best, although it definitely did. Maybe even first. Lance just needed to know his name because, wow, Lance could appreciate a stunning man when he saw one, and he would definitely be searching him up on Instagram later. 

“Me, too. Allura had the best performance anyway,” Hunk replied, turning back to face the announcer. The man on stage opened his mouth to say who took the first place spot, and Lance almost felt like he couldn’t watch.

“And the first place trophy will be going to one Keith Kogane, for his riveting performance of Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu.” Lance sucked in his breath as that beautiful man walked up on stage, accepting his golden trophy with a brief bow. His slicked back hair was now pinned in a low ponytail, hanging down the side of his shoulder with a red hair tie holding it all together.

“Woah, that guy? Not Allura? I mean he was good, but…” Hunk trailed off, and Lance nodded. He knew Allura had gotten second place, which was still good, he was proud, but… he needed to know Keith Kogane. He wanted to ask this man how he could just steal the attention from everyone like a soul-sucking thief. Yeah, that’s it. Keith’s a soul sucking thief.

Allura walked halfway up the stage stairs to accept her golden trophy, then walked the rest of the way to stand with her fellow performers for a final round of applause. Mechanically, the pianists walked backstage, and Lance, Hunk, and Pidge got up as well. The trio slunk out of their seats, hurrying up the aisle to meet Allura in the main lobby before the rest of the crowd got up and out as well.

Pidge yawned right as they stepped into the bright lobby, the natural light shining through the windows, revealing her messy hair. Lance chuckled, knowing she had probably fallen asleep for most of the performances.

“That was kind of boring. I’m glad Allura placed,” she said, shrugging a denim jacket on her shoulders as Allura walked out of the entrance to backstage, dangling her car keys from one finger and holding her second place trophy with a small grin.

“It’s movie time now, you gremlin,” Lance said, jokingly, just as he caught a peek of that dark black hair. Keith was there just as fast as he left, holding a black bag full of what Lance assumed was a formal outfit and sheet music. He got into the passenger’s seat of a black sedan, and the car drove off before Lance could even have a chance to process. 

Pidge socked him lightly. “Yeah, it’s movie time, so we better get going.” She gave a brief hug to Allura as the silvery haired woman approached.

“Thank you all for coming. I’m sure Matt and Romelle are already waiting in my front lobby, so we should get going,” she said, laughing slightly. Lance frowned. He knew that Keith would be on his mind tonight. He just wanted to know how he could capture people so well with something as simple as a piano.


End file.
